Now, I ain't all that much 'bout Christmas, save seein' my friends and gettin' presents that sparkle near as much as my personality, but New Year's?
Shit. New Year's is
fun. You got a ready-made date slapped right there on the calendar for startin' fresh, doin' new ideas, plannin' out your schemes each and every month and exertin' just a hair of control on the unbroken stallion that's your future life. Then, to make things even more fun, you got a way to make hearts go boom in two ways - either a kiss at midnight, or my personal favorite, fireworks.
( Click here for Calamity Ashe's Limited Edition New Year's Fireworks ) Now, I figure most of you people'll be drinkin' and carousin' New Year's Eve. That's just fine. When you wake up the next day madder than a mosquito in a mannequin factory 'cause your throat hurts and your head hurts and you wanna die, why don't you skedaddle that pretty dehydrated ass over to the Deadgang Hideout on the edge of town (coordinates/directions attached)? B.O.B. and I'll be servin' up vittles that are
guaranteed to perk you right on up and give you luck for the new year, including Hoppin' John (with ham hock and black eyed peas, 'course, this ain't my first rodeo), collards, cornbread with honey butter, and Jesse's favorite tamales, that I ain't never done before and will probably fuck up big time, but B.O.B. promised to supervise and he's got a good head for measurements. Come on by anytime between 10:00am New Year's Day through to 8:00pm. No weapons, no hollerin', and no fightin' unless you take it outside, take your shirts off, and make it look real damn good.
My resolution? Thanks for asking. Why, it's not to be so nice. I'm such a retiring, sweet little thing. I need to be more assertive, get what I want outta life.